


Laughter Lines

by badcaseofcasey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domesticity, Fluff, Lazy Sunday mornings, M/M, This is some sappy shit get ready
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1407520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badcaseofcasey/pseuds/badcaseofcasey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is in love with lazy Sunday mornings, and Derek's laughter lines; and Derek, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laughter Lines

 

 

 

> _I'll see you in the future when we're older_  
>  _and we are full of stories to be told._  
>  _Cross my heart and hope to die,_  
>  _I'll see you with your laughter lines._
> 
> _\- "[Laughter Lines](http://youtu.be/8ccFSXgdv5U)" by Bastille_

 

Stiles rolled onto his back taking in a deep breath and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The early morning sun was filtering in through their bedroom window. Stiles groaned lightly and checked the clock on Derek’s nightstand. Sunday mornings were Stiles’ favorite time of week. They both slept in and enjoyed the warmth of their bed and each other’s presence. They would eventually get up and get breakfast, sit around and read the paper or a book. Lazy Sundays were the best kind of Sundays, if you asked Stiles.

He moved his attention from the glowing numbers to Derek, who was still sleeping. Not that he was all Twilight or anything, but Stiles loved watching Derek sleep. The way his face relaxed meant Stiles could see all of his favorite things about him. The way his mouth fell slightly open and his lips were curved in a slight smile; the soft line of his lips turning into the hard lines of his jaw and cheekbones. Were it not for the way Derek snored some nights, Stiles would say he slept like an angel.

But, by far, Stiles' favorite part of Derek was the lines in his face, especially the ones at the corners of his eyes. They were a physical reminder of the time they’d spent together, that Derek was aging with him and they’d grow old together. Before he really even thought about it, Stiles had reached out a hand to trace along the creases at the edge of Derek’s eyes.

“What are you doing?” Derek murmured, eyes still closed.

“Thinking about how much I like your face,” Stiles said, resting his palm against Derek’s cheek.

Derek huffed out a laugh and opened his eyes, blinking slowly.

“Hey,” Stiles said, lips forming a smile subconsciously.

“Hey,” Derek said, the corners of his mouth twitching up slightly. “You’re such a creep.”

Stiles hummed but didn’t argue. “Do you remember that week when I made it my mission to make you laugh?”

Derek nodded, moving up the bed slightly so he could meet Stiles’ gaze directly.

“You mean that week where I almost killed you like, twelve times?”

“You loved my knock-knock jokes, don’t lie.”

“I could have done without you using my head to knock on,” Derek said. “How you thought that would make me smile, I’ll never know.”

“I was young and foolish,” Stiles admitted. “But it worked in the end.”

“Only because Boyd got tired of it and tossed you in the lake.”

Stiles remembered that day well, remembered spluttering indignantly in the cold lake water and reaching the banks where Derek was chuckling softly. Stiles’ glare had only served to cause Derek to let out a deep laugh that seemingly surprised even him. Stiles didn’t have a chance after that.

That afternoon had been the first time he’d heard Derek laugh, really laugh, and it might have also been the first time Stiles realized he wanted to make Derek laugh for the rest of his life.

Stiles looked at Derek, noting how much they’d both changed since then, both mentally and physically.

“I love these,” Stiles said, running the tips of his fingers across the creases in Derek’s skin.

“What, because they remind you that I’m getting old while you’re still young and spry?” Derek asked grumpily.

“No,” Stiles said, smiling softly at Derek. He’d always been so self-conscious about the age difference. “And seriously, spry? What are you, 90?”

“If I am, you’re dating a 90 year old, so who’s really losing here?” Derek said.

“Wow, such wit,” Stiles said. “How will I ever survive such a tongue lashing?”

“You seemed to enjoy the tongue lashing I gave you last night,” Derek said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “And besides, you only just woke me up. I’m allowed to not be completely coherent.”

“Well, anyway,” Stiles said. “I joke, but you know I don’t think you’re old. I just like seeing I’ve made you smile.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“When we met, you were so… growly,” Stiles said. “I wasn’t sure I would ever hear you laugh. I wasn’t sure you even had a sense of humor. And now, seeing these, and picturing the way your eyes crinkle up when you smile or laugh, I dunno, it makes me smile. It reminds me of how happy we make each other.”

Derek looked at Stiles, an emotion in his eyes that could only be described as adoration. “Yeah. No matter how annoying you can be, we’ve been pretty happy.”

Stiles smiled at Derek. “I’m just glad you have more of these,” he caressed the laughter lines gently, “than these.” He moved his hand up to where frown lines would be. "It makes me happy to know I’ve made you happy.”

Derek rolled over to drape his chest over Stiles’, looking down at him. “You make me happier than you know,” he said, and leaned down to kiss Stiles breathless.

Stiles brought his arms up to wrap around Derek and moved to tangle their legs together under the covers. Stiles thought that at some point, he would stop feeling sparks fly between their skin whenever they touched, but so far it hadn’t gone away. Derek still had such a hold on him, and he couldn’t even blame it on Derek’s natural dominance. It was really just Derek, every little thing about him made Stiles’ heart sing, even if it was something that annoyed him.

“You know, you’ve gotten pretty good at that,” Derek said, breaking the kiss to nose at Stiles’ collarbone and kiss along the line of his neck.

“It’s not my fault how woefully inexperienced I am,” Stiles said. “My wingmen are supernaturally attractive.”

“Would you hate me if I told you I had something to do with that?” Derek said against Stiles’ skin.

“What?” Stiles asked, hand running up Derek’s back to thread his fingers through his hair.

“I might have indicated that I wanted them to keep people away from you,” Derek said, pulling away to meet Stiles in the eye.

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles said. “That’s the reason I never got any? You made a secret werewolf pact to cock block me?”

Derek looked sheepish, a rare sight that Stiles took a chance to enjoy.

“How long ago did you start this?” Stiles asked, incredulous.

“Your senior year of high school,” Derek mumbled, looking down at their bed sheets. “When you started getting attention whenever you went out.”

Stiles couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing and brought his arms up to hug Derek around his neck. “I can’t believe you,” Stiles said. “You were so emotionally constipated, you wouldn’t ask me out, but you wouldn’t let anyone else do it either.”

“To be fair, you were still underage at the time, technically.”

“You totally wanted me when I was still jailbait,” Stiles said, laughing slightly at Derek’s concerned expression.

“So you’re not mad?” Derek asked carefully.

“No, of course not,” Stiles said simply. “I might have been if I had found out at the time, but mostly just because if you didn’t want me with anyone else, you should’ve just taken me for yourself and been done with it.”

Derek tilted his head in agreement. He knew better than to deny how stupid the whole thing had been. He hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly back then.

“Wait, so you had feelings for me since senior year of high school?” Stiles asked, surprise coloring his tone. “But we didn’t get together until junior year of undergrad. You liked me for three years before you made your move?”

“I was worried I’d lose you,” Derek said, cupping Stiles’ cheek. “We had just stopped getting at each other’s throats every time we were in the same room. I didn’t want to lose your friendship because I had inconvenient feelings.”

“How you missed my massive crush on you all those years is beyond me.”

Derek laughed and kissed Stiles gently. “Well, we figured it out in the end.”

“We did, at that,” Stiles said, kissing Derek back.

Derek rolled back onto his side so he was resting on his hip, staring at Stiles with a calm smile.

“What?” Stiles looked back at him, making a face to try and get Derek to stop staring. Derek cracked up at Stiles’ puffed out cheeks and crossed eyes, looking down at where Stiles’ hand rested on the pillow.

Derek took the hand in his and kissed Stiles’ knuckles and fingertips. “I’ve always loved your hands. You’re always flailing them around when you speak, it’s so distracting; all I can think of is how it feels when you put them on me, how it feels when you thread your fingers through my hair.”

“When I wrap them around your dick…” Stiles said, smirking at Derek, eyes playful.

“I’m trying to be romantic,” Derek growled, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, okay,” Stiles said, mockingly attentive now. “I’ll listen to you wax poetic about my hands.”

“They’re nice hands,” Derek said, nodding. “But I think they’re missing something.”

Stiles eyebrows raised. “What are they missing? Superhuman dexterity? We can’t all be werewolves.”

“No…” Derek said. “Here, I think I have just the thing.” He leaned over to the nightstand and fumbled around in the drawer for a second before bringing his hand back, something clutched in it.

“No, Derek,” Stiles said, realization hitting him. “No, not fair; hold on.” Stiles ducked down to his own nightstand.

“Stiles, what are you doing? Get back here, I’m trying to-”

Stiles popped back up with a victorious laugh. “I know exactly what you’re trying to do because I’ve been trying to do the same things for weeks.” Stiles held out his hand and revealed the black velvet box he was holding.

“Stiles?” Derek said, looking surprised, which Stiles took as a personal victory. Surprising a werewolf was hard to do.

“Derek,” Stiles echoed, snapping open the ring box. “You have changed my life from the moment you stepped into it, and I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. I want to spend the rest of my life making you smile, and I’d be honored if you would let me do that. Derek Hale, will you marry me?”

Derek’s mouth hung open, his eyes blinking slowly as if he couldn’t quite process what was going on in front of him. “Wha-? Stiles, I-“

“What?” Stiles said, suddenly realizing he may have just made a huge mistake. “If you think it’s too soon, I can wait, we can just forget the whole thing, or we can just have a long engagement.”

“No, I mean, yes, that’s a definite yes, but-” Derek broke off, smiling widely. He opened his hand and showed Stiles the bracelet he had. “I wasn’t proposing.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, eyes wide, mouth open in a slight pout. “But I totally just did.”

“Yeah,” Derek said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “You did.”

“And you said yes?” Stiles said, kind of in a state of disbelief.

“I did,” Derek said, laughing and kissing Stiles lightly.

“Then why aren’t we in the middle of celebratory sex right now?” Stiles asked, causing Derek to laugh and roll his eyes.

“Because I wanted to give you this first,” Derek said, opening his hand to show Stiles what he had in his fist.

“What is it?” Stiles said, looking down at the leather bracelet that Derek was carefully tying around his wrist.

“This was my mother’s,” Derek said, looking down at the bracelet. “Then it was Laura’s. She gave it to her on her 16th birthday, only a month before the fire.”

The bracelet was all braided, dark brown leather, except for a small metal circle tied into the leather, a triskellion etched into the metal. “It’s a symbol of protection that has been passed down through my mother’s family. It’s a sign that you belong to my family and it supposedly functions as a sort of lucky charm. You’re my family now, Stiles, and I want you to be safe.”

Stiles finally looked up from the bracelet to meet Derek’s eyes. “It’s beautiful, Derek, I -” Stiles cut himself off; there was no way he would be able to describe this in words.

“So, now that we've got that over with…” Derek said, lifting Stiles’ hand to kiss his wrist just above where the bracelet touched, right over his pulse. “Do you want to spend the rest of our lives together?”

“Jesus, Derek,” Stiles said, kissing Derek deeply, trying to express all the emotions he couldn’t put into words through the kiss. “Would you just say yes again? I don’t think I’ve completely accepted it.”

Derek laughed against Stiles’ lips. “Yes, Stiles; I will marry you,” Derek whispered before kissing Stiles and leaving him incapable of responding except to hold him tighter and never let him go. Because he can now; he’s allowed to hold onto Derek for the rest of their lives.

“You do realize this means you can’t get rid of me, right?” Stiles said, leaning back against the pillow as Derek kissed along his collarbone.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Derek said, lifting his head and smirking. “I know some pretty good places to hide a body.”

Stiles laughed at the craziness that was now his life, and, hopefully would be his life for as long as he lived.


End file.
